Chapter 40 Clones

Ethan stood alone in the dimly lit underground chamber, his breath steady despite the blood that stained the stone floor. Six lifeless bodies lay arranged in a grim semicircle, pale and cold in death. The air reeked of copper, the smell of blood still thick as if it clung to the very walls.

The bodies had been stripped of their armor, revealing the bullet wounds inflicted during the battle. Ethan's nanobots—thousands microscopic machines—swarmed over the corpses, shimmering faintly like mist as they worked. These advanced healers were not mere machines; they carried living cells within their structure, bio-engineered to perform complex regenerative tasks.

Ethan leaned over one of the corpses, watching the intricate dance of nanobots as they repaired damaged tissue, rebuilt cellular structure, and attempted to restore fractured DNA. The organic templates harvested from a variety of sources guided their precision. This wasn't just science—it was art on a molecular level. Yet, despite their capabilities, Ethan knew the real challenge remained: the brain.

He stared into the hollow expression of the corpse in front of him, its face frozen in death. "While the body can be restored," he thought, "what of the mind? Memory. Identity. The soul, if it even exists. Will this...thing...still be human?" His mind raced.

"This is why I'll use that," he murmured aloud, his voice echoing softly in the sterile chamber.

He didn't need to look down at his wrist; he could feel the nanobots within his bloodstream already responding to his command. His focus sharpened, and as if summoned by his will, a small metallic worm emerged from the base of his wrist. It gleamed under the dim lantern light, iridescent silver shifting in the darkness. The worm's body was segmented, its movements unnervingly smooth, as if it were alive.

The worm twisted in midair before splitting into six smaller counterparts, each one skittering across the stone floor with eerie precision. Ethan's eyes followed their path.

They found their targets.

The worm-like devices moved toward the heads of the six dead men, burrowing into their skulls with unsettling efficiency. The sounds of soft mechanical whirring filled the chamber as the worms began their work—injecting their payloads deep into the brains of the deceased. Ethan's heart rate quickened as he monitored the process, these were no mere repair bots. These were nanobots designed to restore not only the brain's structure but also its function. They carried fragments of consciousness, stored memories, and encoded personalities, crafted with his precision.

The integration was experimental.

The brain activity of the six corpses spiked. Then with a sudden, violent jolt, one by one, the eyes of the clones snapped open.

Ethan's pulse quickened. Something's wrong.

The clone on the far-right twitched violently. Its body jerked, its limbs contorting in spasms, as if fighting against the process it had been subjected to.

"A defect..." he whispered under his breath, his voice hoarse with realization.

The clone's movements became more erratic, its back arching unnaturally. The defective clone lunged at him.

Ethan pushed the clone away, shoving it against the stone wall. The clone's body continued to writhe and jerk, its limbs like stiff puppets controlled by an unseen force.

Ethan didn't hesitate. With a surge of raw power, he drove his fist into the clone's chest. The force of the blow shattered the creature's ribcage, but it didn't stop. The clone continued to claw at him, its eyes wide with a terrible hunger.

Ethan's expression twisted in disgust as he shoved it back again, the sound of cracking bone reverberating in the chamber. He brought his fist down one more time, smashing the clone's head into the wall. Blood splattered across the stone, painting the walls with dark, viscous streaks.

He took a step back, looking at his bloodied hand. It was a fucking zombie, he thought.

The other five clones were slowly rising from the floor, their movements stiff and deliberate. They stood in unison, their glowing eyes fixed on Ethan.

Ethan wondered inwardly, These ones must be fine..... they should be. The first clone spoke, its voice a low, tremulous whisper. "He's going to kill us all..…"

Another voice, more confident, echoed from one of the others. "No. He'll run some tests. And determine if we are of any use."

A third clone let out a chilling laugh, examining its own body with a detached fascination. "What a strange existence we have," it muttered.

----

Ethan sat at the head of the long oak table, his steely eyes fixed on the clones as they moved in perfect synchronicity. The morning sun filtered through the tall windows, casting long streaks. The only sounds were the clinking of silverware and the occasional scrape of a chair leg. Each sip of tea, each calculated bite of bread, mirrored flawlessly by the five men seated around him.

Beca entered with the tea pot, her steps faltering as her eyes darted between the identical faces. Her grip on the handle tightened. When all five heads turned toward her simultaneously, she sucked in a sharp breath, almost spilling the tea.

"Careful," Blue said, his voice low, and entirely too calm for her liking.

Beca stiffened, her cheeks flushing. She cast a sharp look at Ethan, who sat unbothered, as if this was an ordinary breakfast. "Who... who are these men?" Her voice was clipped, her suspicion cutting through the air.

"These are my erm... cousins," Ethan replied, his hesitation betraying him.

Beca's brow shot up, skepticism etched across her face. "Cousins? May i ask where they are come?"

"Very far, they're distant," Ethan said with an edge of finality, his tone suggesting he had no intention of elaborating. He gestured toward the clones. "Beca, meet Blue, Gold, Purple, Black, and White."

As Ethan named them, the clones nodded in turn. Blue's nod was deliberate and polite.

"They're quite... unsettling," Beca muttered, pouring coffee with a deliberate slowness as though proximity to them might be contagious.

Gold flashed a smile that didn't touch his eyes. "Charmed. You've a smudge on your apron darling—third button."

"Excuse us," Ethan said abruptly, rising to his feet and brushing past Beca's mounting objections. "I have matters to discuss with my cousins."

The clones pushed back their chairs in perfect unison, the scraping sound startling Alys.

---

The study was a stark contrast to the warmth of the breakfast room. Heavy bookshelves lined the walls, the faint scent of parchment lingering in the air. Ethan slumped into his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose as the clones took up positions around the room.

"We need to divide responsibilities," Ethan began, his voice laced with exhaustion. "Blue, military strategy. Gold, trade and diplomacy. Purple—"

"Technology," Purple cut in, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Something groundbreaking. Revolutionary. Maybe even dangerous unlike those air rifles."

"That's exactly the problem," Black muttered, leaning casually against the wall. "Last time you tried 'revolutionary,' you burned the lab down."

"It was one fire," Purple shot back, feigning indignation. "And it was contained."

"Contained?" Black barked a laugh. "The horses are still skittish."

"Enough," Blue interjected, his voice sharp enough to slice through the bickering. "We don't have time for antics. We need immediate results, not experiments."

"Immediate results don't build empires," Purple muttered under his breath, earning a pointed look from Blue.

"If we're discussing priorities,"White said, his voice steady and practical, "The roads and housing need attention first. Without infrastructure, nothing else will hold."

Ethan leaned back in his chair, watching the debate unfold. His clones clashed.

"Sort it out among yourselves!" he said finally, waving a hand as if dismissing unruly students. "I'll review your plans later."

For a moment, the clones exchanged glances, their expressions ranging from smug to irritated.

Ethan exhaled a sigh of relief, already sinking further into his chair. "Good. Just don't kill each other."

As the clones began hashing out responsibilities, their voices rising and falling in a chaotic sound of argument and compromise, Ethan closed his eyes. The weight of what he had created settled over him.

For now, he'd let them argue.

--

Pwyll stood in the hall of the manor, a ledger in one hand and an expression of quiet curiosity on his weathered face. His sharp eyes swept over the five men standing before him. Their appearances were identical—down to the jawline and build—but their hair was a vivid giveaway: Blue, Gold, Purple, Black, and White.

They stood in a neat line, their postures confident, yet each exuded a distinct aura. Pwyll glanced at Ethan, who leaned against a nearby table, arms crossed.

"These men," Pwyll began, his tone hesitant but polite, "are your... cousins?"

Ethan nodded smoothly. "Yes. Distant, but blood nonetheless."

Pwyll raised a brow. "Distant enough to inherit such..."

"They've always stood out," Ethan replied dryly.

The steward stepped closer, inspecting them one by one. His gaze lingered on Gold's shimmering blond hair, then on Purple's striking violet long hair. "I'll admit, my lord, they look... strange. Foreign, even."

Black leaned toward Azure with a grin. "Did he just call us exotic?"

"Quiet," Blue muttered, his voice low and authoritative.

Ethan cleared his throat, pulling Pwyll's attention back. "They've come here to assist us in the town's development. Each of them have a particular set of skills."

Pwyll arched an eyebrow. "Skills, you say?"

---

Blue - Ministry of Agriculture and Education

Oversees farming, food storage, and distribution.

Develops schools and training programs for various skills.

Researches improved agricultural techniques.

Purple – Ministry of Infrastructure, Construction, and Technology

Manages road, bridge, and fortification construction.

Plans and builds new housing and settlements.

Oversees technological advancements in materials and tools.

Black – Ministry of Defense, Military, and Research

Organizes and trains the army, including the use of air rifles.

Develops military strategy and defensive tactics.

Conducts research on weapons, armor, and battlefield technology.

Gold – Ministry of Trade, Foreign Affairs, and Economy

Manages trade agreements, markets, and resource distribution.

Oversees taxation and economic stability.

Handles diplomacy and negotiations with other regions.

White – Ministry of Health, Law, and Security

Oversees medical care, including hospitals and disease prevention.

Maintains law and order, resolving disputes and enforcing justice.

Manages internal security, intelligence gathering, and crisis response.